Like really ugly.. ugly ugly. Well, it's only fitting for an ugly person to have ugly things, right? just kidding. While out and about today, soaking in what is sure to be one of the last beautiful days of summer, a nice shiny Porsche whistled by me on the highway. I'd say it was a late 90s 911 Carrera aka my DREAM car. It got me thinking, when I make my first million and buy my first Porsche (Mind you, it's not a matter of if, but when - you can see my arrogance peeking through) I don't want that experience to be anything like how it used to be. If you're reading this and have been a friend of mine for a while, you'll remember my Talon. Good ol' vanity plates that read "PSI TSI", most of which I'm sure people thought I was in a frat.. or if you were a non-boosted Honda or V8 with silly Hemi stickers, you'd think twice after looking back at my big ol' FMIC.
Countless hours of research, planning, designing, building and tuning went into that car. After spending over $20k on her, I realized that in the 3.5 years I owned the car, I've driven it less than 8,000 miles. WOW. Every chance I got the car was waxed, pampered, garage-kept and driven like a bat-out-of-hell, after all, that's what she was built for. It was undeniable that it was the funnest (is that a word!?) 8,000 miles I've spent in a car, but a part of it all really eats at me.. Did I really enjoy the car as much as I could have? I spent so much time thinking about driving the car, that I had actually forgotten to actually drive the car. So here, I present to you exhibit B, my shoes.
These bad-boys have been with me for over 400 miles, which is definitely well over it's squishy point, but oh well. I've ran in 3 different continents with them, I've ran a half marathon (soon to be 2), I've ran mountains, Capital cities, boot camps and beaches with them. I've never washed them, I've never fixed them, I've never done anything but use them. This is how I want my life to be. I want ugly things... used, abused, and beaten to hell. I don't want a nice, shiny Porsche. I want a sun-faded, yellow Jeep Wrangler with no doors (no shoes, no shirt, no problems), that screams "I've been through shit that you haven't seen!". I don't want a cushy life with a cushy job (although some may disagree.. haha!). I want to be out there, never tiring of new things and never afraid to be quiet or be loud. I want the truly ugly things of life because in the end, they're the most beautiful.
*ba dum bum* title sounds funny, but BRO, I'm serious. "Remember," he said, "read for pleasure. If you pick up a book and don't like it, put it down. Never read what you think you should read. Never feel inadequate if you don't like what you're 'supposed' to read. Reading is personal. Your opinion is the only opinion that matters" The smallest moments make the biggest differences Perhaps this seems like a no-brainer to most of us, but the above article really stuck out to me today. I mean, how many of us go on the rat race everyday? Every single time, without fail, that I'm in a subway car or walking the streets of Manhattan or sitting at my cube staring at pictures of epic places I've been to, I always wonder why I'm not out doing those things. Is it social obligation, financial obligation (after all, I did go to B-school and racked up a ton of student loan debt), and/or familial obligation that keeps us in the rat race? Or perhaps it's an actual need that we have that dictates working is a part of life?
a quick moment with little kids and a big impact
I'm not saying every jamoke should quit his job and run off to New Zealand to grow a beard, adopt the barter system and become a jade-carver, but I am saying that we all have a choice, both inside and outside of work, to do what we love. Take a step back with me really quickly and think about all of the people in your lives who you would call 'successful'. What do they all have in common? They all love what they do and they do the hell out of it. In my life, I have friends who I've watched reinvent the HR wheelhouse, recreate operations, start new small businesses when everyone told them they wouldn't succeed, mothers, fathers, teachers, Christ followers, well diggers, and body builders. All which measure up to the 'successful' yardstick in my book. I defer to these folks to see what it means to have a passion and actually follow it. It seems all too simplistic (and overwhelmingly true) to realize that they all see things differently and choose to make decisions that affect every aspect of their lives. Trusting that whatever factors may influence their day-to-day lives are the driving force that will bend their results, for better or for worst. These are the people who I call 'all in' and it's about time we all go all in with them. After all, who wants to wake up one day and say, damn, I wish I did?
Hey
folks – this one might be intense.. so my non-Christian friends, it’s not too
late to turn back. Or perhaps a better reason to keep reading? :)
The
problem with wearing your heart on your sleeve is, well, wearing your heart on
your sleeve. That thought occurred to me a few days ago and kind of stuck in my
head, except in a different way in what you may be thinking. You see, I do wear
my heart on my sleeve; both metaphorically and literally. Back when I was a
mere 20 year old (I KNOW it seems like ages ago!) I was going through some
challenging times and felt like I needed a tattoo to symbolize my struggles. 7
years later, I’ve now got a cross, with a sun and a moon next to it. In
hindsight, the metaphor seems a lot stronger now than what it did back then; to
lay down two instrumental sins in my life, at the foot of the cross… and to do
it now over and over again in the present, compelled by a very special
Psalm that was first read to me circa 2009.
Psalm 91: This Psalm has stuck with me throughout the years, whispering seemingly
unobtrusive little words thatwould come alive across the dozens, if not hundreds of times I’ve read it. The living Word reaching out to me to speak to my troubles at that very moment.. in every moment.. in this moment. These past few weeks have been different, but eerily similar. To be in a state of not feeling, not knowing and not having a single clue as to where to put my first step; but hey now, I’ve got to give myself a bit of credit, I at least know that in order to move forward in life, it literally begins with just that little step. The question I find myself asking is,where?
It’s when I was sitting in church this past Sunday did somethingclickinside of me. My logical brain in all of its illogicalness seemed to see the pathway in which I was meant to be on. At the very least, I’m beginning to see the dirt road out of the midst of things (think Lord of the Rings). The answer had been with me all along. I mean, literally, ON me. In addition to my cross, sun and moon (which was Gaelic inspired, howfancy), I’ve recently added on a very important piece to it. Asking the artist to draw it freehand, a combination of feathers and little biomechanical pieces were liberally tattooed
from my shoulder down to my elbow. They represent a very powerful verse in
Psalm 91:4 and Ephesians 6:10-18; it’s where Ifind my refuge, under God’s wings
and that he equips me with His armor, the armor of God. Forever inked to my
body, I live with this daily, both inwardly and outwardly. The funny part about
all of this is that as the time goes by, I forgot that I even have tattoos or
even what they mean to me.. similarly to how I seemed to have forgotten that Christ had died for me on the cross. Somewhere along the way, I’ve forgotten how
to love God, love my neighbor and to love myself.
Not
one to stress, you figure it’s just how life takes you by surprise. An
unfurling event, or counter-pragmatic happenstance, it knocked me off of
my well-placed, well-groomed, well-mapped life.
Imagine
being at Belmar, or Long Branch, or whatever your favorite beach may be (God
really help you if you immediately think of Seaside Heights haha jk) and you’re
enjoying some waves; and then all of a sudden you’re taken by surprise by a rip
current, unable to touch your feet down at the bottom to find sure-footing.
Each second that passes by, you’re fighting for air, losing sight of where you
are, losing orientation and feeling a huge weight being placed on your chest.
While dramatic, I know we all experience this to different degrees throughout
our lives. These troubles all come in many different shapes and sizes, but the
struggle exists in some form or another and I’m convinced it’s felt universally.
Then
imagine a hand or a familiar voice calling out to you… pulling you; Offering
you help, support.. ultimately, a way back in. Ding ding ding.. can you
see it? Can you feel it? The idea that God, the Father, has come to rescue me
and although I will never be able to repay him or to give him enough thanks,
out of His sheer love and genuine caring is this sense of peacefulness, security
and assurance. That, my friends, is the concept of Grace.. and as I
struggle to confront the issues that life throws at me, instead of
rationalizing, dismissing or minimizing them, I’ve begun to feel more and more
of God’s unlimited grace towards me, a jealousy for me that begs me to draw
closer to him as I dive deeper into this world. Through that, I derive the
strength to trust not on my own self, but to lean on an unknown presence that
feels like home. To be a little chick that hides under his momma’s wings at the
sign of danger, to feel protected and loved. This thought gives me hope. It
doesn’t remedy any emotions that I may deal with, but rather, gives me the
understanding of how to endure those feelings and to accept them.. and to
accept myself; a child of Christ – perfect in my imperfectness; without a hint
of not being enough for the Lord, perfect in all of my crazy ways.
So
there you have it. I do wear my heart on my sleeve. When you see my tattoos,
think of them as a reminder. A reminder of Emmanuel: God with us: God with me
and God with you.
And if you haven't had enough, or perhaps you are in search for more.. read my buddy's blog on the exact same topic.. albeit, he speaks the gospel much more eloquently than I. It's worth the read, trust me.
About 3 years ago I was experiencing tremendous back pain. No doubt the 405lb-rounded-back-deadlifts, constant improper running, ill-fitted cycling and wreckless power lifting behavior contributed to it. It got so bad that I was barely even able to bend over in the morning to brush my teeth. After visiting the doctor and going through an MRI, I was found to have developing (is there such a thing? or is my mind playin' tricks on me [kudos if you know the song reference]) arthritis in L4 and L5.. that's my lower back for you non-medical folk like myself. Wow - that was a game changer for me. NOT. I spent the next year trying to fix my form on my lifts, but my ego kept me trying to lift the same weight. That didn't help much. Well, as the pain grew more and more, my ego was getting smaller and smaller. Pretty soon I wasn't able to even run a 5k, cycle more than 10 miles, or do a set of 225lb DLs without having to stop, stretch and wince in pain. It was time for a change. 12-18 months later, I can happily say that I'm relatively pain-free from my lower back about 95% of my day. That's with doing all of my usual activities, you know, trying to stay fit and all. Here's how I did it. While it may not be the answer to everyone's (or even a single other person's) back pain woes, I've done and been through a lot and here are my wins and losses. Losses:
Using a foam roller to push the arch of my lower back (laying flat on the floor and just sticking the foam roller under the lower back)
Doing straight leg dead lifts
Doing good mornings
Continue doing deadlifts (I don't DL anymore)
Using a weight belt as a bandaid for a weak back
Not warming up the core before heavy squats/rows
Wins:
Foam rolling the top of glutes - this is my TOP pain remedy for tightness. I can't explain to you medically what it does, but hitting this spot released most, if not all tightness from my lower back.
Focusing on strengthening my hamstrings (I discovered I have a severe leg muscle imbalance.. big quads, small hamstrings). I've found hamstring curls work wonders
More core work - e.g., leg raises, planks, etc.
This machine is my best friend:
Lowering the weight and seriously focusing on form during lifts
Being more aware of my running gait (I supinate, so I bought corrective insoles, also tightening up my stride)
Dedicating a part of my leg day and my back day to strengthening my lower back and lower abs
Tucking my chin on lifts (admittedly, I've thought that keeping the chin up during ALL lifts was the better way to align the spine, but I was DEAD wrong)
So all in all, it's been a long road and this battle with lower back pain will likely progress into the future, but at least I've got more awareness/experience in how to deal with it. Hope this helps!
I've been so lazy and lethargic lately, that it took me several days to even sit down and write this blog.. coincidentally on the topic of being lazy and lethargic. After 5 wonderful years of turning my life around and finding insane stamina to keep focused on my training program, I think I've finally weened off the high of becoming athletically fit and am now culling in the valley of not having motivation. Funny thing though, I started this blog, or rather was inspired to start writing in this blog to jot down all of the things that have kept me motivated throughout the years.. yet here I am writing about not being motivated! No matter.. I think that state that I'm in, many can relate to. My job catching up to me, family time, the lack of sleep, social/church responsibilities and a girlfriend have all kept me sufficiently on my toes for the past several months. What does that mean? Fitness has gone down the tubes and eating junk food has gone up. Ouch. So in the pits of this non-bicep building despair, what am I to do? I figured it's time to finally take a dose of my own medicine. I reread several of my blogs, especially the ones centered around goals and have decided to do the one thing I always tell people to do: take the first step. Although I've been keeping up with going to the gym (averaging twice or three times a week now vs. 4-5), I've been rather lazy with running/cycling (I averaged about 250 miles in 2011 and 2012.. so far this year I've ran less than 30!). I've discovered that I'm making the same excuses that I once chastised people for making. "oh i'm too busy" "oh I have to go here.. I have to go there" "oh i'll do it tomorrow". Wow. I never thought it would come to this. Oh well, that's water under the bridge, right? no mas! no longer am I going to make excuses. So I threw on my compression shorts & favorite running hat (of course I was shirtless, what other way would I have it?!), turned my GPS watch on and pulled the quick-laces of my faux-triathlon running shoes snug .. and off I went. I've got to say, today's run was the hardest damn 10 minute/mile 5k I've run in a long time. Although my, what I call, 'home 5k' has several small hills to climb, running a 29'22" time was a far cry from my 26'00" personal best on that route. But I tell you what, it was the most satisfying thing I've done in a while. So here I am, making my testimony to you. Greatness, achievement and success doesn't begin with greatness, achievement and success. It starts with one step. It starts with the mind being ready first, then the body to follow. No matter how many DE-motivating things are happening in my life, the moment I decided to make my health a priority again was the moment I defeated the 'can't do' attitude. So wherever you are in your struggle, I'd say this: take that first step and remember your bro-rific pal (me), in his lethargic-double-cheeseburger-eating-I-forgot-to-stop-bulking-for-the-summer-state-of-mind, can be a testament that it's never too late to start. Some things to meditate on (or repeat over and over again while running aka hurting):
Philippians 4:13 (yep, the super cliche one, but super awesome!)
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me"
aaaaaaaaaaand
Ask yourself:
1) What actually motivates you? Vanity? Health? Your children? Fitness goals? Confidence?
So I'm driving home just now and the excitement I'm feeling is overwhelming. In less than 24 hours I'll be on a plane heading to El Salvador. Wow. I actually get to say that. For starters, please don't think that this is will be an entire entry on me saying "woohoo everyone look how good of a person I am". It's precisely the opposite of that. This opportunity is a blessing. This trip isn't about me, it isn't about Liquid Church or Liquid Water International, it isn't about the little knick-knacks us Americans are bringing to a destitute village in El Salvador. None of that even matters. What really matters is that my heart, my group's heart, my church's heart and your heart that lies within the work that will be done. Transcending above that, it is with God's heart that we are able to carry out His will in a capacity that will effect not only those who we serve, but ourselves as well. To be honest, I don't even know how I got here. Never in a million years would I have thought my New Year's resolution of writing a single blog entry a month would include a pre-adventure schpiel about going to El Salvador. That my friends, is the glory of God. Time and time again, I've found that as I lean harder and harder on God and depend on His grace, do I find the miracles that happen in my life. I've also figured out that it has nothing to do with what I'm doing, what I think I'm capable of or how I think I'm doing something to control my own life. I don't know what to expect of this trip. I don't know what impact we will have nor how I will be impacted, but there's an incredible excitement that I can see rightnow in front of my face and I know for sure I'm called to share the power of this testimony with all of you who have taken the time to read on. I mean this when I say it, no empty words here, we are all in this together. I don't care if you gave money, prayed, or even spent more than second thinking about it. This trip is about the communion of people, the salvation of the Lord's promise and the many different ways love can be shown in this world... and for me, that's a big damn deal.
I wrote this April 6th, but with life moving so fast, I forgot to post it here. For context, my church went back out to revisit Staten Island, which was hit especially hard during Hurricane Sandy, to help in the continued effort there. Although the media and people's attention waned from the sore subject, these people are still hurting and in need of support. I've said it before and I'll say it again, these outreaches are the reason why I love Liquid Church so much. It's a church filled with members who don't just read the bible, but they act out their faith each and every day of their lives. That being said.. enjoy :) Also, apologies for the entry feeling so disjointed. I wrote this as soon as I got home from the outreach and just wanted to put down my thoughts on paper.. Plus I dare not edit it, so that it lose it's authenticity.
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With two houses down, we were well on
our way of picking up some serious momentum in today’s outreach. Handed a big
ol’ sledgehammer, some crowbars and shovels, we were told that our next
destination would be a tough one. Untouched since Super Storm Sandy, we were
tasked to muck out a house that was riddled with mold, mildew and abandoned
belongings.
As we walked into the house, we were greeted by Diane – a
middle aged woman whose demeanor put most hardcore NJ/NYers to shame. With her
hands and head waving around as she spoke, you could see she was telling as
much a story by what she was doing along with what she was saying. Not to be
slighted, she had a fierce attitude to boot. Diane told us about how the house
belonged to her late boyfriend. She made off-hand comments about how this “problem”
fell on her lap and how she lost so much money in the ordeal. Knowing we were a
Christian relief group, she voiced a quip of how God giveth and taketh away.
On the onset, I was pained by the lack of belief in her
voice. I could feel how she felt that God had abandoned her and immediately wanted
to reach out from across the room to tell her how much God really loved her. Sensing
she wasn’t ready for that, we started with our work. Led by my amazing
girlfriend, Dee, our equally as wonderful team set to the task of removing
years and years of debris from the house, its saturated appliances and gutted
the water-logged drywall, something so common to houses affected by the storm.
Amidst the work, I
could feel how much Satan was waging war here in the very foundation where we
were standing. We found paraphernalia, weapons, pornography and a slew of other
unsettling items throughout the household. The ill-feelings carried towards the
street as neighbors and strangers alike rummaged through the garbage we carried
out of the house, hoping to find something of value to profit from Diane’s misfortune.
Everywhere we turned our group faced a constant barrage of attacks from the
devil himself. Overwhelmed, Dee and I had to step out of the house to pray. We
prayed that the Lord’s shield and armor come down to protect this house, the
team and Diane. We asked God to rebuke the evil spirits that dwelled in that
household. We were ready to wage war.
Minutes passed by as we returned to our work, using clinical
focus to carry out our task – removing material, breaking down walls and cleaning,
cleaning, cleaning. Our momentum had reached a peak, everyone was enjoying
themselves. We were basking in the Lord’s Grace as we took the first swings of
the sledge hammer. Diane’s face lit up as she joyfully said “give me the
hammer, I want to swing it!” We all stood around and started having fun. Diane was beginning to feel
the Love that was taking over the house; Strange how demolition can bring
people together.
After that, Diane was different. She didn’t spend her energy
on complaining about her circumstance, about how the storm ruined her life and
more importantly, she stopped blaming God for what happened to her. We could
all feel it, Diane started asking to help
us… wanting to give back to us. She felt the compassion we felt for her and
wanted so genuinely to give back.
With the day ending, Dee and I ended up catching Diane alone.
We asked if we could pray with her. She hesitantly accepted our request. Being
uneasy, she grabbed our hands and joined us in prayer. With God opening her
heart today, we expressed that He still loved her. That she was a beautiful,
strong woman who deserved nothing but the best that God could provide to her.
That none of this was her fault and she was a blessed woman to have handled it
so well. We told her of a saving hope that would take her away from the hurt
she has been experiencing for the past 18 months… That there was a light at the
end of the tunnel. As you could imagine,
the tears began flowing between the three of us. Our prayers struck home. They
entered her heart in a way that none of us could have ever imagined.
After sharing our moment together, we wrapped up our work and
started packing up for the day. Diane stood in the house and bid everyone a
fond farewell. The peace that was now throughout the house was so palpable.
Being the last to leave with Steve, I walked back in to say my final goodbye to
Diane. She stopped me and told me she had something to say. She told me that
she had only one request at her late boyfriend’s cremation ceremony, that the
song “Amazing Grace” be played (his favorite song)… and how they couldn’t even
do that for her.
Tears started welling up her eyes and I couldn’t understand
why. She continued with her story. She said “After you and Dee prayed for me, I
walked downstairs and the music was playing. The song that was playing was
‘Amazing Grace’”. I don’t understand what that means.How could I have paid so much for a ceremony
and my only request not be fulfilled, but here you guys are – a group of
giving, loving people, doing a free service for me and his song comes on. How
can this be? I think God heard our prayer.. I think God heard our prayer”.
As if a floodgate had been opened, we offered Diane words of
comfort. That God IS with her. That He answered
her prayer and that He sent us and His “God wink” to affirm that He is still so
madly in love with her.
God was in the room with us today. I was a witness to our
Lord calling back His daughter. Beckoning her back to a life full of His
undying, unfiltered, Staten-Island love.This woman was saved today. I… we… all know it and God knew it all
along. Diane is the woman with the grey shirt and glasses, and yes, that's Dee going HAM on the wall with the sledgehammer. hah!
